


They Tumble and Fight, and They are Beautiful

by vampgirltish



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen, im only tagging the ~most important~ ones so, pretty much everyone in RT/AH is in this in one way or another, there's a little bit of blood/violence just as an fyi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:10:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3108965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampgirltish/pseuds/vampgirltish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and many of his coworkers aren’t…average. They can transform into animals, some out of will, and some on the basis of a full moon. His wife is a versipellis, who can turn into a cat, but Michael is not that lucky. Michael is a werewolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello!! here's the beginning of (hopefully) a good fanfic! it's a werewolf!au, and it's pretty general so far, but hopefully it'll get more in depth.

A glance at the calendar told him the fact that it was almost a full moon. Next Friday would be a full moon, and he was dreading it. Usually he could pass it off, make it like he was going to Gav’s house, but he couldn’t, because Gav was out of the country.

He had argued profusely with him about this, yelling, “I thought you knew! You always stay in the country when I’m gonna turn!”

The British boy responded, “I thought it was next week!”

“Well you thought wrong, Gavin!” Michael yelled, so angry.

What was he gonna do? How could he tell everyone that his werewolf form was a fucking Chihuahua compared to all the others? For Christ’s sake, even Ray’s werewolf form was an actual scary looking wolf! Ray’s was a timberwolf, reddish-brown with curious brown eyes. It was a sight to behold. And Michael’s? Michael’s was a fucking puppy. Michael’s was one of those wolves you find at the zoo, placid and lazy, lounging about in the sun for half the day, fangs and claws filed short, more likely to be seen pilfering through a garbage can than sinking teeth into flesh to turn another werewolf.

And don’t even get him started on the others’ forms. Geoff’s was a dark, murky black, eyes cold and yellow, with a curled tail (that somehow coordinated with the mustache on his human face). Jack’s was copper red and wiry, much like his beard, and had pale eyes. Ryan’s was white as snow, with shockingly yellow eyes, and the only trace of color on his body was that of reddish-brown stockings on his front two paws that almost looked like blood.

Other people at his work were shifters too, though they could consciously choose between human and beast. The only full human was Gavin, and that was through an error in Geoff’s judgement. Geoff thought that Gavin was either werewolf orversipellis, but was mistaken to find out he was human. But, Gavin proved to be a helpful asset to the team, without the limitations of shifting, and he could go out and get things for those who needed it but couldn’t because they weren’t, well, human.

Besides the point, even Lindsay, who was obsessed with kittens and giggling at bad jokes her friend and coworker Barbara makes, she still was a versipellis who could shift to any large scale feline she wanted. So, she could just be a normal tabby cat, or she could be a (now extinct) saber tooth tiger.

In other words, Michael looked like a fucking baby. And he wasn’t excited for everyone to find out.

* * *

So, Michael didn’t let them find out. He hid in his apartment that Friday. Normally, all the guys who turn to werewolves gather together at the safe room in the office and wait it out, usually biting and fighting each other rather than their coworkers, friends, or innocent civilians. But, Michael always avoided the safe room, or as the other guys called it, ‘The Fray’, and stayed at Gavin’s house in his basement. Of course, he still couldn’t do that. So he waited it out in his apartment. Around dusk, the moon was beginning to rise, and he knew it was soon. Michael had asked his other coworkers, specifically those older, what it was like shifting, when he was new to being a werewolf. Geoff told him it was scary, and all he remembers about it is a throbbing sense to kill. Jack said that he almost killed his wife the first time, she told him, and that he never wanted to do that again. Ray said he tore up his house, which is why he wanted to stay in The Fray, where he wouldn’t ruin anything since the room was just an empty concrete room.

And Ryan… Ryan said that the only thing he really knows is that he doesn’t remember his shiftings. Ryan had been a werewolf the longest, being one from his parent’s genes, and he had been shifting since he was a baby. He said he’s shifted 432 times, thirteen times a year, even as a newborn. Ryan’s first shifting was when he was only fifteen days old, December 21st. He woke up the next morning in his crib, which was ripped to splinters, and all of his bedsheets shredded and covered in his own blood. He saw marks and scars all over his body every morning after he shifted, but he didn’t know why it happened until his parents sat him down and said, “James, you’re a werewolf.”

And as the moon rose, Michael felt himself tense. He knew, it was now. He was shifting really really soon. He locked up his door, the windows, and closed the drapes. And he sat in the middle of his living room, between the couch and the TV console, and he waited. Then, his brain just went fuzzy and black, and he didn’t remember anything.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael goes to work to find that everything has gone to shit. But what's he supposed to do?

When he woke back up, he was human. That much was evident, judging by the fact that he felt his curly hair against his nose and the half-torn clothes against his body.

He tried to look around, but his vision was fuzzy. Where were his glasses? He fumbled around, trying to figure out where he was, and find his glasses, but to no avail. Michael looked around in the fuzziness, trying to place himself. He found the brown wall that was normally against his headboard, and knew he was in his bedroom. Did he take off his glasses before he shifted? He couldn’t recall, so he checked his side-table, and luckily, there they were. He slid them on his face, pushing them up the bridge of his nose, and went to the bathroom. After tugging off the remains of his torn-to-pieces shirt, Michael looked at himself.

On his face was blood, not much, but evidently there. On his arms, were a few cuts and a bit of glass, blood also marring the freckles on his arms. He looked at his chest, a long thin wire of a scar down his chest, but that wasn’t from his shifting that night. That was from when he became a werewolf at age 23. But now was not the time for him to dwell on the night of his turning, now was the time for him to clean himself up and just go back to work. That’s what he always did; shifted and went back to work the next day, pretending as though nothing happened. He cleaned himself up carefully, putting peroxide in his cuts, bandaging them, throwing on a shirt and a hoodie, a fresh pair of underwear with a new pair of jeans, and his shoes. Michael swung his backpack over his shoulder, locked his apartment, and began his trek down to work.

Upon arrival to work, the receptionist left a note on her desk that read: “All employees upstairs, third floor IMMEDIATELY.” It was only like this when there were emergencies. Forgoing waiting for the elevator, Michael took the stairs up, two at a time, until he reached the third floor. His ears picked up the sounds of crying, whose he wasn’t sure of, and he opened the door carefully, walking down the hall to the main sitting room, where the commotion was. Griffon was sitting on one of the couches, holding Lindsay’s hand in one hand, and Jack’s hand in the other. She was crying, harder and harder, and part of Michael’s heart ached because he felt so sad for her even though he didn’t know the situation.

He leaned to Ray and whispered, “Do we know what happened?”

Ray responded quietly, “No. She’s just been crying for awhile. We’re just giving her time.”

Michael nodded, satisfied with that. He stood and waited with the rest of the employees, in bated breath, for Griffon to speak.

And finally, she did. “I-i-it was awful. So so awful. Oh my god.”

"What was awful?" Lindsay asked.

"He-he-he was."

"Who?"

"G-Geoff."

Everyone looked at each other. Ray sighed out a breath and leaned to Michael again, “He wasn’t in the Fray last night. That’s what Lindsay said. She said he went home and didn’t come back.”

"What happened, Griffon?" Jack asked.

"He-he attacked me. I k-know he didnt mean it, and he-he didn’t d-draw blood or anything, b-but he still j-jumped on top of me and h-he growled at me."

Everyone’s collective gasps were enough to set her crying again. Lindsay shushed everyone as Jack prodded, “Can you tell us more? If you’re comfortable to, at least.”

"Y-yeah," Griffon said, and began the story.

* * *

_The door opened with a slam, and Geoff’s voice rang through the house, “I’m home!” Even though that much was obvious from the slam of the door, he called anyways. Griffon walked to the foyer to greet him._

_"Hey, how was work?"_

_"Good, as usual. Everyone was really on edge today… ‘Specially Michael. He usually gets antsy when Gavin’s out of the country though. Must be a kinda separation anxiety."_

_Griffon shrugged. “Maybe. I’m making tacos for dinner.”_

_"God, I love you," he said, ignoring the fact that she’d used a non-sequitur and pressing a kiss to her forehead and a smile in response._

_As Griffon stood in the kitchen, singing along to the radio and cooking, Geoff began his regular routine of drinking on a Friday. After dinner, he kept drinking, and Griffon looked outside at the sky….and she noticed something. Something bad._

_"Babe, you know what time it is, right? You’ve been keeping your calendar?" she called to him._

_"Yeah, it’s coming next week, not this week. ‘S fine. Come back in here, the movie’s starting again."_

_But Griffon could sense the impending doom of the situation. The moon outside was a full moon, and what did her werewolf husband transform into on the full moon? A werewolf. And what could she do to stop him? Little to nothing. Though she was a versipellis, her main forms were rarer rodent animals, like porcupines and chinchillas. If she did change into one of her forms, she’d just look more appealing to his wolf instinct. So, essentially she was screwed, unless she could get him to go to work again._

_"Are you sure you didn’t leave something at work today?"_

_"Sure as sure, Griffon. You’re acting weird," Geoff called, getting up and returning to the kitchen where she was peering out of the window and standing near the corner of the room. "What’s gotten into you?"_

_"Honestly, outside tonight is a full moon. You miscounted, Geoff," she told him, her voice serious._

_"No, I didn’t. It’s fine. It’s still a waxing gibbous until next Friday." But the way his eyes were beginning to glint with something dark, something twisted, Griffon knew this was false. "Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? You’re acting so fucking—"_

_But Geoff did not finish his sentence.  The moon hit him, glinting his eyes more brightly and she saw in that instant the dark pools of his eyes change to the yellow, cold, condescending eyes of his werewolf form. She watched the black fur begin to increase on his body, his shirt tearing, as it sprouted first from the areas where his hair was, then everywhere at once. His body arched, and he slumped to the ground on all fours as his hands and feet changed to paws and his face grew more wolf-like. Griffon found herself petrified with fear, not able to move, as the tail sprouted from Geoff’s body, ears changing, whiskers growing, and his teeth snarled, lip curled._

_She was scared, so scared. She tried to reason, talk to him, trying to show him that it was his wife in front of him, to not try to kill her, “Geoff. It’s me. Griffon. Your wife. Please don’t hurt me.” Her voice was gentle, but straightforward. She began to try to edge towards the door to the basement, hoping to lock either him or herself down there as protection, but Geoff didn’t like that. He leapt, his paws hitting her shoulders before she’d even processed he’d left the ground, and he snarled and growled louder. Those yellow yellow eyes, glassy and fiery all at once, glaring down at her and boring into her very soul as she was pressed against the floor of their kitchen by this almost two hundred pound nightmare._

_Her body ached to be let go. And, against her own better judgement, she swiped her hand up and hit Geoff in the muzzle. A whine escaped him with a yelp, and he was fazed enough that she could wiggle free. Griffon pushed him down the stairs with strength only caused and fueled by the adrenaline pumping in her veins, and heard him thud and yelp all the way down. She slammed the door and locked it, before hurrying to somewhere she trusted, which was one of her friends, where she stayed the night. Then, the next morning, she ran to the office, to tell them what happened and explain why Geoff wasn’t going to be at work for half the day at the very least._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's chapter two! don't forget to give me feedback! i love you guys!!

**Author's Note:**

> reviews/comments/criticism are appreciated!! please tell me what you think as well as feeling free to give me ideas!! :D


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